Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The Look

I saw One hanging on a treeIn agony and blood.Who fixed his loving eyes on meAs near His cross I stood.And never till my dying breathWill I forget that look.It seemed to charge me with His deathThough not a word He spoke.

My conscience felt and owned the guiltAnd plunged me in despair.I saw my sins His blood had splitAnd helped to nail Him there.But with a second look He said,"I freely all forgive.This blood is for your ransom paid.I died that you may live."

Forever etched upon my mindIs the look of Him who died,The Lamb I crucified.And now my life will sing the praiseOf pure atoning graceThat looked on me and gladly took my place.

Thus while His death my sin displaysFor all the world to view.Such is the mystery of graceIt seals my pardon, too.With pleasing grief and mournful joyMy spirit now is filled.That I should such a life destroyYet live by Him I killed.